“Mom, I'm going to come home a bit later today, is that okay?”

The question didn't seem to take my mother by surprise. Sighing, she put down the plate she was cleaning and turned to me.

“Going to hang out with... what was her name... Jen, are you?” Her eyes were both tender and accusing. “Angela, I really wish you would...”

“No,” I interrupted her. “I'm being tutored. I have a math test next week, and I don't want to fail.”

That did take my mother by surprise. Good thing she had already put down the plate.

“Oh Angela!” A warm smile spread across her features. “I'm so proud of you. I was right, after all. You're really growing up and taking charge of your life. Come here my angel.” And she gave me a big mom-hug, which was good, because while hugging me she couldn't see the guilty expression on my face.

Jen's reaction to my plans when I had to reject her idea of going to the movies after school was rather different, however.

“You can't come because you're being what?!”

“Tutored,” I said, trying to keep a straight face. “I'm being tutored.”

“O good. I thought perhaps you said it is because you are being an ass. Or is that the same? Let me think... yeah, it is. Please tell me you're being forced into this?”

“No. We have a test next week, and I don't want to fail. That's it.”

“And to think I've called you my friend in public.” Jen looked disgusted. But I was pretty sure she was only joking.

“Jen,” Sandra admonished. “There's nothing wrong with tutoring. I do it myself, occasionally.”

“Yeah,” Jen said, “but you're a geek. And I can't believe you've been tutored. You wouldn't need to be.”

“No, I didn't mean I've been tutored, I meant I've been tutoring people. 6th- and 7th-graders, you know. It's really rather fun.”

“O God.” Jen covered her eyes with the back of her hand. “I'm surrounded by traitors! Help me, someone!”

“How about me?” Anastasia asked.

“I don't know.” Jen lowered her hand and looked at her, suspiciously. “Have you ever been a tutor or been entangled with one?”

“I took a course in reading tea leaves once. Does that count?”

Jen uttered an exaggerated sigh. “No, you're clean. Thank God I've got one friend worth having.”

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

My heart was hammering when I arrived at the homeless shelter. Would Giacomo be there? Had all his talk yesterday just been a joke? And what if it hadn't been? He was just impossible to figure out.

“Hey, girly!”

I had been staring at my feet, because all my concentration was necessary for walking straight with all these disjointed thoughts in my head. Glancing up, I saw a few disheveled figures sitting on the steps to the front door of St Christopher's. They hollered at me and made hand gestures that were more than suggestive. I studied the gestures with interest, just in case I saw one Jen didn't know yet. Otherwise, I tried to ignore the jerks. But when I walked past and one of them stretched out his hand towards me, I twisted around, kicking his hand away.

“Ouch!” He sprang up and staggered backwards. “Are you crazy, bitch?!”, he yelled. His companions got up.

“No,” I said. It was annoying, and more than a bit disconcerting, that I had to stare up at them although I was standing on the porch and they on the ground. That didn't make it easier to make my voice sound menacing, either. “I'm just not in the mood to be groped by you guys. And if you want your dinner you'll remember that. You are here to eat, aren't you?”

“Well... yeah.”

“And I'm here to work. Let's keep it simple and just go our separate ways, okay?”

The guy that was still holding his hand bit his lip. I had no Idea what he would do next. Suddenly, the door behind me opened and Debby poked out her head.

“Something wrong here?”

I gave the guy another stern look – and he lowered his gaze. “No,” I said. “I was just having a chat with these guys.”

“How nice.” Debby beamed at the 4 derelicts. “Ange is a very good friend of mine. I appreciate it when people are nice to her.”

That did it. Grumbling, the guys slouched off.

I pressed Debby's hand in gratitude. “Thanks for the help.”

“Oh, I don't know. From what I caught, you were handling it pretty well yourself. You did exactly the right thing. Those guys act big, but they want their dinner as much as the next man – or more. They don't dare touch any of us.”

“Why doesn't Father Elliot kick them out?”

“I think it is because he believes there's good in everybody.” Debby shrugged. “Nuts, of course, but what can you say. I'd hate to prove him wrong and disappoint the old guy.”

We went inside. In the kitchen, much the same crowd as yesterday was assembled. Today, Debby announced, we would be making vegetable soup. Since this required nothing more than to chop a whole lot of vegetables into little pieces, we were more or less left to our own devices, as long as we chopped fast enough. I was cutting broccoli into little pieces when I saw Valerie, Leila and Beth gossiping at the other end of the room, and a sudden inspiration struck me. Picking up my half-dismembered broccoli, I hurried over to them.

“Hi, guys,” I greeted them, beaming. They returned my smile a little uncertainly.

“Hi,” Beth said. “Angela, isn't it? You're the new girl.”

“Yep. That's why I came over here, as a matter of fact.”

Beth frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, like you said, I'm new, and I don't know anyone...” I leaned forward, making my eyes big and scared. Puppy-dog scared. “And... s-some of these people look pretty scary.” I nodded towards the benches, where the homeless were slowly gathering. “That guy over there,” I nodded towards a big bald fellow in an army jacket, “and that one.” I pointed towards a towering muscular figure in the darkest corner of the room.

“Giacomo?” Beth laughed. “My goodness, Angela. You're scared of Giacomo?”

That certainly wasn't the reaction I had expected. I had hoped to garner some information on Giacomo's reputation – but not for one moment had I really had any doubt as to the nature of that reputation.

“He's so big,” I whispered, continuing my scared girl act. “And the way he stares at you... I thought everybody's afraid of him, the way they avoid him.”

“O Good Lord, no, they avoid him because he's rude and a total wimp.”

My eyebrows went up in surprise. I didn't even have to act.

“A wimp?” My voice was clearly disbelieving.

“O sure, he looks scary.” Valery waved a hand stained with tomato juice. “But he's the biggest sissy I've ever met. One day, there was this scuffle in the corridor – Some biker dude stumbled and slammed into our Italian friend. No Idea how, but the biker nearly broke his nose, the clumsy fool. He cursed Giacomo, grabbed him and smashed him into a cabinet. The look on the Italian's face... I thought for sure the biker was dead. But then, Giacomo just got up and said that he was very, very sorry. The biker cursed some more, and in the end Giacomo practically got down on his knees in front of the guy and begged for forgiveness, begged that he wouldn't fight him. Honestly! I mean, I'm not one to encourage violence, but there's got to be a limit. That whimpering and begging, that simply looked disgusting. And the worst thing is that if Giacomo isn't grovelling because someone threatens him, he's as rude as can be. Never a word of thanks out of him. Never any word out of him, in fact. That's men for you.”

“Yeah...” Confused, I stared over to Giacomo. What I'd just learned should be good news, shouldn't it? After all, if he was such a sissy, it could hardly be dangerous to meet him somewhere. And yet there was some part of me that was almost offended at the idea that Giacomo was supposed to be a coward – and another part that remembered all the other things that had been said about him, all of which hadn't exactly turned out to be true...

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

“Thank you, dear... but don't I know you?”

I smiled at the little old lady, who looked even smaller in the big old coat she was wearing. “Yes. You told me how pretty I am the other day.”

She smiled back, taking the bowl of soup I held out with slightly shaking hands. “And I was right, too. What's your name, dear?”

“Angela.” With trepidation I watched as the soup sloshed back and forth in the swaying bowl. Finally, it landed safely on the table. The old woman seized my hand and squeezed it. “An administering Angel,” she laughed.

“Not hardly,” I snorted, less offended than I would have thought. The old lady squeezed my hand once more, then let go. “I'm Prue, dear. Nice to meet you.”

“Very nice to meet you, too. See you around.”

I went on to serve the next bowl of soup. Debby had dug up a couple of old serving carts somewhere, so serving the soup didn't take as much time as the stew yesterday. When I was nearly finished with my round, I reached Giacomo.

“Hello,” I said, with as much haughtiness as I could manage.

“Hello,” he replied. His eyes were sparkling. They almost took my breath away. Swallowing hard, I reached down, picked up a bowl, filled it with soup and handed it to him. He nodded, looking straight at me. “Thank you very much.”

Cowardly? Rude? Impossible!

“Are we going to meet at the Cafe or do you want to wait for me outside?” I asked.

“I'll wait,” was his reply. “I don't have company that often when I take a walk. It'll be a nice change.”

What did he mean? Did he like my company? Did he like me? Frantically, I tried to banish such thoughts from my mind. I was interested in him simply out of curiosity, right? Why should I care whether he liked me or not? Well, perhaps because of the way his warm eyes made me feel when they looked into mine, like... just.. now...

God, no! What was I thinking?! He was a derelict for heaven's sake! Or was he? I remembered my own thoughts from earlier: all the other things that had been said about him, all of which hadn't exactly turned out to be true...

“Angela?” Now there was a frown on his ruggedly beautiful face. “Is something the matter?”

I realized that I must have stared at him silently for the last minute or so.

“No,” I snapped. “Of course not. See... see you later.” And I turned, hurrying away as quickly as I could.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Father Elliot made another appearance that evening. Spreading his arms, he smiled at the assembled delinquents, drug addicts, layabouts and hobos, and said: “Thanks for coming again, my children, my friends. You are always welcome here.”

I don't know how he did it, but that actually sounded honest and important when he said it. He might have said more after that, but if he did, I didn't catch it. I was looking around for Giacomo yet he was nowhere to be seen. Again. Well, this time it was easy to explain. He'd said he'd wait outside, hadn't he? So I grabbed my backpack, said goodbye to Debby and left. When I stepped onto the porch, I saw a sight that made my jaw drop.

Giacomo was standing against the brick wall of the shelter.

And no, it wasn't just the sight of Giacomo that made my jaw drop. I'm not such a pushover! Well, maybe I am. But at least not in this this case.

No, what left me utterly zonked was the sight of Giacomo balancing an empty coke can on his head, while the four jerks that had tried to grope me earlier were using it for target practice, throwing other empty cans. One thing was immediately clear: either they were very drunk or they were deliberately aiming at Giacomo instead of the can. I stared at his face. It was impassive, completely devoid of emotion. A crumpled can ricocheted off Giacomo's cheek, leaving a small cut behind. He didn't even blink. His hands, I noticed, were strangely contorted: the forefinger placed on base on the thumb, the middle finger and ring finger on the thumb, and the little finger stretched out.

The next can bounced off his chest, and the jerks laughed. Anger welled up inside me. Was this their way to get rid of their frustration because I had put them in their place earlier? A number of colorful words I had picked up from Jen jumped into my mind. Instead of using any of them, I simply marched down the steps and placed myself in front of Giacomo. Technically, this was a rather empty gesture. Considering my and his relative size, there would still have been plenty of room to throw cans at him without hitting me. But the hobos got the message.

“Look who it is,” one of them snickered. “Little Miss Big Boss. Want to join the game, do you?”

“No,” I said in as calm a voice as I could manage. “I want you to piss off. Right now.”

The guy blinked. Then he grunted, turned and slunk off. His buddies followed him – all but one, who picked up the last can, shouted “Hiding behind a skirt, hey?!” and threw it. My arm darted out and caught it in midair. Hey, don't look so surprised, I've always had good reflexes!

“Didn't I make myself clear?”, I asked. “Piss-off-right-now!”

And this time, he did as I said.

Still glaring, I turned to Giacomo. “What's the matter with you?” I shouted. “Why didn't you do anything? If one of those things had hit you in the eye...”

It was only then that I realized he wasn't hearing a word I said. His face still bore that impassive expression, his eyes focused on some point in the distance. Damn! Had those guys injured him somehow? Had they hit his head? Who knew, maybe coke cans hadn't been the only things they threw. My eyes searched the surroundings, but nowhere could I see rocks or other heavy stuff lying around. Nor was there any visible mark on Giacomo apart from the small cut on his cheek.

“Giacomo!” I grabbed the front of his leather jacket – reaching his collar would have required a stepladder – and shook him. At first, it didn't appear to have any effect, but at last he seemed to come to. His eyes narrowed, his hands reached up. He had grasped my hands and was lifting me up before I could move an inch.

“Ouch! Giacomo, you're hurting me!”

At the sound of my voice, his eyes focused on me, then widened. “Dio Buono! Angela, I'm so sorry.” He put me down considerably more gently than he had picked me up. “Did I hurt you? Are you all right?”, he asked, real concern in his voice. That made my answer less sharp than it would otherwise had been.

“Yes, I am, no thanks to you! What the hell is the matter with you?”

“I...” he swallowed, and for a moment, his face contorted as he stared down into my angry eyes. “I have a medical condition. Sometimes it just comes over me, and... I have difficulty remembering when and where I am, and who is with me. It is triggered by stress, sometimes.”

Immediately, all the anger left my face. Without thinking about it, I stretched out my hand and grasped his clenched fist. Under my touch, I could feel his muscles relax slightly.

“I'm so sorry,” I said. “I didn't know that.” And I still didn't understand it. I had heard of Illnesses that cause one to black out, naturally. But none of them cause bouts of aggressiveness afterwards. Hurriedly, I pushed such thoughts aside. It wasn't any of my business. “I didn't mean to be rude.”

“Rude? You?” He laughed, and his fist opened to grasp my hand. “You couldn't have known. And anyway, I should be thankful to you. Am I not right in thinking that it was you who scared off these segaioli?”

I didn't understand a word of Italian – but the way he said that word made its meaning pretty clear.

“Yea, I did,” I said, looking down embarrassed. “But it wasn't such a big deal.”

“You scared off four grown men.”

“For grown pussycats.”

“Granted. But regardless of what they were, you did something nice for no good reason.” His eyes and his teeth gleamed brighter than ever as he smiled down at me. “Thank you.”

My heart thudded so loudly that I was sure it could be heard a block away.

“No problem.” I pointed down the street. “Shall we go?”

“Certainly.”

We strolled down the street, and for some reason, I didn't care what it was, he didn't let go of my hand. I didn't mind.

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What do you think is really behind Giacomo's strange behaviour? ;) Any guesses?

Cheers

Robert

P.S: If you want, connect with me on facebook via the external link ;)